Being loved
by JennyWren
Summary: Erik loves Christine, and Christine loves Erik. Simple, isn´t it? But what if Erik finds himself unable of being loved? Oneshot, rather depressing


Being loved 

**Author´s note: **The story starts with the usual end-of-musical situation, but continues very differently. I have to warn you that the beginning is rather deceptive concerning the tone of the story – it changes drastically during the last part.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters from "The Phantom of the Opera". They belong to Gaston Leroux / Andrew Lloyd Webber .

For a moment Christine did nothing. Her eyes wide with shock, she looked from the Vicomte to me and back. I watched her in absolute silence, while he muttered incoherently, his ability to speak doubtlessly influenced by the lack of oxygen. I felt like slapping him in the face, just to make him stop, but didn´t dare move a muscle, in order not to disturb her. The lives of all three of us depended on her decision.

I knew perfectly well what I demanded from her. Either she chose to stay with me because she wanted to set her beloved free, or else she went away, leaving him to die at my hands. Two possibilities – and I hated both of them. For there was a third one, hidden deep down at the bottom of my heart. I had managed not to think about it for a while, but now it returned to my mind, stronger and more painful than ever before. Christine could also stay with me because she … loved me. Inwardly I gave a bitter laugh. How could I expect anyone to love me when I didn´t even love myself?

"I choose you, Erik." I had heard this sentence over and over in my head when I had imagined how all that could turn out. The situation hadn´t been the same in every daydream, but it always ended with Christine making her decision between the Vicomte and me. These four words had comforted me hour after hour, day after day. Sometimes I had even been able to sleep.

But something was different this time, something which pulled me out of my thoughts and brought me back to reality. It was a sound, a small sob – and it came from the Vicomte´s direction. I realised that she had turned her back on him and faced me, eagerly waiting for a reaction. It was only then that I understood it: She had actually spoken the words. "So you agree to stay here because you wish me to spare the Vicomte´s life?" My voice had been supposed to sound cold and indifferent, but the tiny spark of hope that she could have another reason, _the_ other reason, slightly softened it.

"No.", she replied, not taking her eyes off me. "I want to be with you, Erik. Forever." The Vicomte gasped, but I was so focused on her that I hardly noticed. "Christine…" My mind was completely blank except for her name. She drew nearer and took my hand in both of hers. It was astonishing that this soft touch could fill my whole body with warmth, replacing the usual iciness. Still she looked at me, and her eyes were glowing with something I had never believed possible. Was it really … affection?

Christine´s mouth opened to speak, and as soon as I heard her almost solemn voice I knew what would be coming. "Erik, I lo-" "Not now, my angel.", I interrupted her. Probably it was foolish to stop her, but I couldn´t help it. I wanted this moment to be special, and most importantly I wanted to enjoy it alone with her. "Let me get rid of him first!" She stared at me in horror, and I realised how she had interpreted my words. Hastily I corrected myself: "I didn´t mean it in _that_ way. I´ll just bring him somewhere for people to find." Obviously relieved she nodded.

I went over to where the Vicomte stood, eyes closed and face scarlet. Apparently he was on the verge of passing out, but desperately fought against it for he knew it would be his death. Quickly I freed him of the lasso, putting it away carefully under my cloak. Then I heaved him over my shoulder. He was too weak to protest against this treatment. "I´ll be back soon, Christine.", I called. "And then…" And then she would say it, and I would be happy. For the first time in my life.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Although I did everything as fast as possible it took me a while to get back into my world. I had avoided all passages in which I had heard footsteps or snatches of conversations. As far as I could tell they had stopped searching for us, and even if they hadn´t, they would never discover the way down here. I had dropped the Vicomte in front of the door which led to the chorus girls´ dressing room. The whole corridor had been deserted; apparently the girls had still been running around in the opera, giggling excitedly about tonight´s mysterious events. Soon they would return and find him. He hadn´t even woken up when I had thrown him to the floor, but he had been breathing, and that was the only thing that I cared about.

Now, as I approached my house, I felt almost cheerful, my mind humming with what was about to happen. From the first moment I had wanted Christine to be mine. I could scarcely believe that my only wish would finally come true. I allowed myself to extend the pleasure by waiting a little longer, looking at her through the window of my sitting room. In my opinion she was always most beautiful when she was unaware of being watched. Her natural grace was even underlined by the casual way in which she sat on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the door.

Having seen how keen she seemed to be on my return, I couldn´t deny her my presence any longer. After all, she was the first person ever to wait for me. She jumped up at once as I entered the room. "Oh Erik, I was worried about you. I thought something could have happened…" The expression on her angelic face turned from anxiety into anticipation when she realised that I was alive and well. "Can I say it now?", she asked. He child-like eagerness moved me, and I nodded.

Christine positioned herself in front of me and took my hand once more. Looking deep into my eyes she said: "I love you, Erik.". Suddenly her lips were on mine. Their touch was warm, and yet something in me froze. Hastily I broke the kiss. "I´m … sorry … ", I muttered and fled into another room. It didn´t matter which one it was, only away from her. Away from her? I was surprised about my own thought. All the time I had planned how being together with my angel would be, and now I didn´t want it anymore?

With trembling hands I locked the door behind me and sank down on the floor. I wiped my cold, sweaty face with my hand and noticed that my heart was racing. Why on earth was I so frightened? I went over the scene in my head again, realising that the problem had not been the physical closeness to Christine. Being completely honest to myself I had to admit that I had been scared before the kiss, ever since … she had declared her love to me.

This realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, nearly knocking me over, yet I knew it was true: I was frightened of being loved. Nobody had ever loved me before, so where should I have learned how to cope with it? It was different with hatred. Hatred was a good feeling, a simple feeling. I had grown used to hating and being hated alike. But love … Even this one moment had shown me that I couldn´t bear being so close to her, exposing her to my emotions. This was a form of love I wasn´t able to react to. I would only end up hurting her, I was sure of it.

So I had to send her away. I had to make her go to the Vicomte or somebody else, somebody who was not an emotional cripple like me. Then I could have my old position back, watching her from the shadows. Maybe, if I managed to forget these few glorious moments in which I had thought it possible that she and I could be together, I would be almost happy. However, it wouldn´t work: not for my sake, but for hers. She wouldn´t understand why I forced her to leave. She would never forgive me. I couldn´t betray her love like that.

Now I knew what Christine had gone through, making her choice, though my situation was much worse. One way was as impossible as the other. If I let her stay, she would soon find out that I couldn´t bear her love. If I made her leave, she would think I no longer loved her. Either way would break her heart… A second later I had made my decision. With one determined gesture I unlocked the door and opened it.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Christine was lying in bed when I came home in the middle of the night a few days later. Not wanting to disturb her I approached her quietly. I kissed her deeply, nearly laughing as I compared it to our first kiss. Now I knew that it was only a matter of practice, but at that day I had been shocked as I has felt her warm mouth. Today her lips were cold, and I tucked the blanket around her more tightly.

"Look what I´ve got for you!", I whispered, producing a silver necklace from my pocket. "I thought it was about time to replace the old one." Carefully I pulled her nightdress away from her neck, exposing a thick line of a deep purple. Though I hadn´t quite understood how it had come to be there, it never ceased to amaze me how well it suited her. Still I had bought my angel a new one, which I now placed around her neck, paying attention not to get her hair into the clasp. I lay her head back onto the pillow and admired her: "You look so beautiful, Christine.".

I would never betray her love. I would always stay with her, unafraid of touching her, unafraid of hurting her. Smiling contentedly I took off my clothes and lay down next to her, embracing her lovingly. "Good night, Christine. I love you."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………...

_Erik passed away two days later in his sleep, next to Christine. A doctor would have made the diagnosis that he died of old age. But although Raoul had searched for his beloved fiancée for months, they were never found._

_Loving someone is easier than being loved. At least for some of us…_


End file.
